


The Sheppard Situation

by Caedus501



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Mathematics, Post-Canon, introspective, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 09:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedus501/pseuds/Caedus501
Summary: After five years of solid friendship and surviving life or death situations, Rodney McKay realizes he's just been asked out by Sheppard.  Or has he?  He's going to have to reevaluate everything to make sure.  Oh, and the shield is acting up?  What's going on with that?





	The Sheppard Situation

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I'm about a decade late to the McShep party, but I have recently rediscovered my love of all things Stargate, especially Atlantis and McKay/Sheppard. After reading a bunch of excellent Stargate fic, I just had to contribute! I started thinking about what an interesting pairing these two are in terms of their attitudes and interests, as well as representing the interplay of science and military that is so central to the show's structure, and what resulted was an incredibly introspective piece. It also kind of turned into a monster in terms of length, but I think it turned out all right. 
> 
> Happy reading!

_The Sheppard Situation:_

_A Reinterpretation of the Data_

 

“Oh my god.”

Rodney’s mouth dropped open in shock as he stared unseeing at the tablet displaying the city’s shield diagnostics (Sheppard had said something about Atlantis feeling off, which wasn’t exactly helpful, but as much as Rodney hated to admit it, Sheppard was right about this sort of thing 80% of the time, so here he was running diagnostics. Again.) as something finally clicked in his brain.  He quickly looked around him as if to make sure no one had read his mind and noticed that it had taken him nearly four hours to finally realize that Sheppard had— 

No.  There was no way his brain had come to the correct conclusion.  Years of evidence shouted a refutation to this epiphany.  He decided to consciously review the data again.

Sheppard had strolled into Rodney’s lab at around 1100 hours, leaned casually against the side of Rodney’s workstation with his arms crossed, then proceeded to smirk in Rodney’s general direction until the overworked and highly underappreciated Chief Science Officer deigned to acknowledge his presence.

Which took all of four seconds.

“What do you want?” Rodney had snapped.  He was in no mood to deal with laconic colonels at the moment.

“Nothing much,” Sheppard drawled.  “Just checking in, you know, making sure nothing is about to explode or release deadly nanites.  That sort of thing.”

Rodney glared even as he kept typing at a furious pace.  Friends though they were, and close friends at that, he didn’t appreciate the humor in this instance.  Mostly because Sheppard wasn’t entirely off the mark.  “I’m actually rather busy at the moment since Kavanagh thinks he’s too good to check his math and now lab six is under about two feet of some kind of _foam_ , of all things, and normally I wouldn’t care, but the rate of foam expansion is veering on exponential and there’s a lot of expensive, one-of-a-kind equipment in that lab. So I’m trying to come up with a containment field while the chemists work up a counter reagent—ˮ

“Wait,” Sheppard interrupted as he stood up straight, eyes alert, arms dropping to his sides, “so something is actually exploding?  Should I get Woolsey?”

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “That’s the last thing we need.  The stuff isn’t actually dangerous to humans and it will run out of steam eventually, but I’d prefer to limit the damage.”

“Oh.”

Rodney continued to adjust his calculations and started thinking about how to tweak the necessary hardware needed to project the containment field while the silence stretched on.  Sheppard shifted nearby, but didn’t leave.

“Was there something else?  I’m working.” 

“Yeah there is actually, since you’re not too busy,” Sheppard said.  Rodney managed to withhold the eye roll but frowned in unconscious reaction to the tone of his friend’s voice.  He sounded unsure?  Nervous?  Something was clearly up.  “I, um… was wondering…” Sheppard trailed off. 

The frown got deeper as he glanced briefly at Sheppard.  The colonel seemed to be struggling to say something, which was odd and normally would have been an interesting avenue to explore, but again: busy.  “Come on Sheppard, spit it out!  I have some rewiring to do,” Rodney prompted. 

Sheppard appeared to almost deflate a bit as Rodney returned his attention to his screen for one final pass over his impromptu field calculations.  “It’s Atlantis,” Sheppard said sounding uncharacteristically despondent.  “She feels a bit off.” 

Rodney paused in his work to stare incredulously at the slightly hunched figure before him.  _Atlantis feels off?_ “What does that even mean? What feels off? How?” 

“I don’t know!”  Sheppard was defensive now.  “It’s just a weird feeling.  Her hum is wrong!” 

Rodney made sure to roll his eyes that time.  “Well thank you for that incredibly insightful bit of news, colonel.  I’ll just let lab six get buried in Ancient chemical foam so that I can deal with your weird feeling immediately.”

That produced a scowl of epic proportions on Sheppard’s face.  “It’s the shield frequencies,” he said in a heated voice, “they’re flickering or something.  Oscillating too fast to be normal.”

“Really?” Rodney asked, honestly stunned for a moment. Sheppard’s answer was surprisingly specific, if not terribly comforting.  “There’s no reason for them to do that.  The shield isn’t even up right now.  I wonder if—ˮ

“Dr. McKay!” The voice of Dr. Kusanagi interrupted Rodney’s train of thought.  “I have the devices you asked for, and a portable generator.  I didn’t think a naquadah generator would be necessary to cover such a small area.”  She bustled right over to his workstation and shoved the items into his hands.

Suddenly all of Rodney’s attention was refocused on the task at hand.  He reached for his tools to begin prying the twin projection devices apart so that he could move a few crystals around and replace a capacitor or three.  Before he got fully embroiled in his project he addressed Sheppard.  “I’ll look into it when I have a chance, Colonel.”

Sheppard nodded and slowly began to head for the door.  Three steps from the exit he turned suddenly, retraced a few steps, and planted his feet.  Even though Rodney was intent on the device before him, some part of his brain registered that Sheppard had that determined look in his eye that he usually saved for when he was getting ready to do something dangerous.

 “Rodney, I was wondering—ˮ

“Hold on,” he cut off the colonel and turned to Dr. Kusanagi. “Miko I need three 100 microfarad capacitors rated for 25 volts.”

“Right away, Dr. McKay!” She hurried to a set of drawers in the back of the lab that housed all manner of circuitry and necessary parts.

“Rodney!” Sheppard said sharply to reclaim his attention.

“What?” He answered in the same tone of voice.

“You wanna get dinner with me later?  Maybe eat on that balcony at the top of the West Tower?”

“Sure.  Yes.  That’s fine,” he said somewhat absently as he carefully pried loose a crystal from one of the Ancient devices.

“So I’ll come by and pick you up around eighteen-thirty, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.  Provided I’ve dealt with this.”  A second crystal came out, got flipped around and reinserted into the first crystal’s spot.

“Good,” Sheppard said, sounding satisfied and clapping Rodney on the shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to it then. Let me know if we need to evacuate due to foam or something.”

Sheppard nodded at a suddenly wide-eyed Miko as he left and that was that.  For the next hour and a half all Rodney could think about was the foam situation and all the ways he was going to make Kavanagh’s life miserable for his inability to do basic math.

With hindsight, however, Rodney noticed the details his mind had catalogued but that he hadn’t had the time to properly make sense of in the midst of a minor crisis.  The nervousness and hesitation, then the need to steel himself to ask Rodney to share a meal – something they did on an almost daily basis, and thus should not have made him nervous, he might add – the semi-romantic location which would afford a spectacular view of the Lantean sunset, and to top it all off, Sheppard had insisted on “picking him up.”  Not to mention Dr. Kusanagi’s stunned reaction to what had taken place right before her eyes.

Given the available data, Rodney was about 97% certain he had been asked out on a date by one Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Air Force.

“Oh my god.” He felt it bore repeating due to his shock at this unprecedented, unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome, turn of events.

“What is the meaning of this declaration?”  Zelenka asked entering the lab.  “Is there something wrong?”  He moved to look over Rodney’s shoulder at the information on his tablet.  “Something with the shield?”  Zelenka’s alarm at the prospect of a malfunctioning shield crept into his voice.

“What?”  Rodney queried in confusion, then saw where Zelenka was looking.  “No, no!  There’s nothing wrong with the shield.  Well, actually there is, but that’s not what this is about.”

“I see,” Zelenka said with a dubious look at Rodney.  “Is this epiphany something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

Rodney opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it.  After all, what if he was wrong?  He and Sheppard had known each other for years.  They’d fought Wraith, saved lives, raced toy cars, watched movies, and avoided the topic of feelings like the plague.  There was never any hint that Sheppard had ever considered him as potentially more than a friend. 

In fact, now that he thought about it, the balcony at the top of the West Tower was in a lightly trafficked area of the city and was completely out of the direct line of sight from the command center of Atlantis.  The whole tower wasn’t even fully integrated into the new security surveillance system.  Either Sheppard really wanted privacy or he was luring Rodney to his death and tossing his body into the ocean after.  This _was_ Sheppard, so honestly, the odds were fifty-fifty in either direction.

Rodney frantically searched his memory of the last few weeks to make sure he hadn’t done anything recently to piss Sheppard off too much.  Instead his mind landed on the image of one of Sheppard’s real smiles aimed at Rodney while they had been in a puddle jumper a few weeks back.  It was one of the rare ones that made his face light up and his absurd hair appear to fluff itself in joy.

Okay, so maybe Rodney was a little paranoid.  Sheppard probably wasn’t going to kill him, which brought things back around to the possibility of their evening meet up being a date.  Perhaps Rodney needed to consider a larger sampling of data before he finalized his conclusions.

Zelenka was still waiting for a reply, eyes squinting behind his glasses as if it would make Rodney’s thoughts clear to him.  “Um, no.  I don’t think I’d like to share at this juncture.  I believe a further analysis is required before I can, ah,” Rodney temporarily floundered, “present my findings.”  Yes that sounded good and scientific.  Not at all like his entire world was being restructured to accommodate new Sheppard related information.

Zelenka looked unconvinced, but he thankfully let the subject drop.  “If you say so.”

Now that he knew Zelenka was watching him, Rodney made an effort to get his mind back on his work.  Sheppard had been right after all.  The shield was acting up, but he hadn’t been able to isolate the source of the problem causing the frequency fluctuations.  Fortunately, Rodney was a master multitasker.  He continued to scan through data while the majority of his brain power was turned toward figuring out the Sheppard Situation. 

He had to review more data, right?  That meant reexamining the better part of five years of interactions with the man, which wasn’t really practical.  It had been a pretty busy few years with no shortage of drama.  The kinds of situations they found themselves in on a regular basis tended to promote a high level of trust and bonding.  Rodney could say without hesitation that he had never had a friend as important to him as John Sheppard; and Ronon and Teyla weren’t exactly far behind on his list of People to Protect At All Costs.  But maybe there were still stand out moments that should have clued Rodney in to the possibility of Sheppard caring in more ways than just those of a friend. 

Although, Rodney felt he should point out that he had often expressed to Dr. Beckett as well as Dr. Heightmeyer that men can have close, emotionally fulfilling friendships with other men without it being a romantic thing.  The notion that only women get that sort of companionship is a fiction created by media to promote toxic masculinity.  As such, he had long held an internal (and on occasion an external) view that there was no need to foist such romantic leanings on his relationship with Sheppard.  He may have stumbled a few times into an errant, Sheppard-centric daydream or seven, especially at the beginning of their time in Atlantis, but then there were Katie Brown and Jennifer Keller to distract him.  Of course, now he was deliberately telling himself to foist-away, so he’d deserve at least one accusation of “hypocrite” should the Sheppard Situation resolve in any sort of successful date.

Silent disclaimer to himself concerning the reinterpretation of all his interactions with Sheppard taken care of, Rodney wondered where to start his data collection. 

He definitely remembered Sheppard having a bit of a freak out that time Rodney had found that ascension lab and was basically faced with the choice of “ascend or die.”  Neither option had been all that appealing to be quite frank, but he hadn’t seen all the choices at the beginning. He remembered meditating with Sheppard in an attempt to quiet his racing brain, and failing.  Part of his failure probably had something to do with the fact that he could tell that the lieutenant colonel was far from pleased with the idea of Rodney ascending.  He may have looked cool on the outside and engaged in his standard quips and banter, but there was tension in his shoulders and a sharp edge to some of his words that Rodney had been unable to ignore.  At the time he thought it was just Sheppard’s natural concern over possibly losing his best friend, but with a new perspective maybe it was more than that. 

This didn’t seem like sufficient evidence. 

If he was reexamining behavior that he had previously categorized under best-friendship, then Rodney couldn’t deny the way that Sheppard took care of him, especially out in the field, as significant.  It started back in the first year of the expedition after he and Sheppard had faced down a 10,000 year old wraith with nothing but a handgun, a knife, and a powerbar between them.  After emptying his entire clip squarely into the seemingly immortal wraith’s body, Rodney had asked a slightly worse for wear Sheppard, “Now what?” and been told in an unhelpful tone of voice to reload.  He was a physicist, not a marine!  How was he supposed to think of those sorts of things under the threat of imminent death? 

Once they got back to base, Sheppard had dragged Rodney to the firing range the marines had set up and proceeded to spend two hours teaching him the proper stance and grip for at least three different projectile weapons, as well as how to load, unload, disassemble, and clean them.  Rodney’s initial complaints of the exercise being a waste of his precious time were met with such a rarely displayed level of seriousness on Sheppard’s part that he quickly shut up and let the then Major get on with his instruction.    

In retrospect, there had been an amazing amount of touching and close contact involved for something so military.  Two hours of Sheppard’s hands carefully changing Rodney’s grip on the 9mm pistol or firmly turning his torso to a better angle or gently lifting an elbow and telling him to breathe and focus from so close behind him that he could feel Sheppard’s breath on his neck.  Rodney had a strong suspicion that this was not how traditional firearms instruction was done, but he also hadn’t really felt like complaining.  It was easier to find the correct positioning for himself when he already knew what it felt like because Sheppard had put him there. 

Each subsequent, if sporadic, visit to the firing range with Sheppard was much the same, with maybe a touch less hands on instruction.  But it was usually after an offworld mission that involved either Rodney in danger or needing to pull a gun that Sheppard hauled him off to these little sessions.  With hindsight, he could see that it was probably Sheppard’s way of reassuring himself that Rodney was capable of at least some self-defense if it came down to it. It could even be interpreted as how Sheppard showed that he cared about Rodney’s safety and his life outside of the boundaries set by his importance to the continued welfare of the expedition.  Although it was pretty rare these days that Rodney felt both isolated from his team and threatened enough to use much of what he had learned on that firing range.  Sheppard was usually there, within either visual or radio contact, ready to spring into action. 

The colonel even checked all the food they were offered offworld for citrus or citrus-like ingredients before giving Rodney a silent nod that it was safe.  Rodney hadn’t even asked Sheppard to do that, he just sort of started doing it.  He had probably saved Rodney from death by anaphylaxis at least three times that way over the years.  (It had never been a malicious use of citrus, just an unawareness of his allergy by the locals of the Pegasus Galaxy.)  Furthermore, Rodney knew for a fact that Sheppard made everyone on AR-1, or any other gate team that Rodney might be out with, carry an epipen in their tac-vests.  Just in case. 

Sheppard also seemed to lookout for Rodney’s mental state in the field almost without even thinking about it.  He would offer small encouragements, or bits of incentive to complete a task when Rodney was panicking or frustrated. Normal friend stuff, sure, but he also had a way of saying Rodney’s name that somehow cut through the fog in his brain and made him snap to attention and refocus on his surroundings.  When other people yelled at Rodney like that he just yelled right back and the whole problem solving process slogged along at a slower pace.           

Then there were the times that it seemed like Sheppard just knew Rodney was one twig snap away from absolutely losing it on some planet thousands of lightyears away from Atlantis.  In all fairness, Rodney didn’t think it was unreasonable for him to be scared out of his mind at the situations they often found themselves in.  After all, he was a trained physicist and engineer.  He was meant to spend his days indoors in a lab, not tromping about the wilds of alien planets, but he did it anyway.  For science.  And sometimes it all became too much and he simply couldn’t deal with the running and the shooting and the violence.  Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla were all various embodiments of the competent action-adventure hero and Rodney was the rather more fragile brains of the operation.  He knew what to do in a combat situation in an academic sense, but he just didn’t have the instincts his teammates had to help keep himself alive, no matter how often Sheppard tried to drill them in.  On occasion the tension and sense of impending doom got to him, yet somehow Sheppard always knew and without fail he would practically glue himself to Rodney’s side and begin to coax him back from the brink.

Case in point: a rather memorable mission on MX8-273 – now officially subtitled “Genii 2.0” in the database – and the interminable trek back to the stargate from the city center.  It had been one of those missions where everything that could go wrong did.  The local population hid a level of technology that was just slightly beyond that of Earth and took an eager interest in Rodney and his theories on subspace vacuum energy production and crystal matrices (otherwise known as research pertaining to ZPMs).  The end results had been kidnapping, Sheppard and Teyla beaten into unconsciousness, a shootout in some sort of magnetically sealed structure (which did unpredictable and painful things with the ricochet from Ronon’s magnum), Rodney being forced to contribute to some kind of massive energy weapon, and finally Sheppard somehow finding a tactical advantage over the home team and exploiting the hell out of it.  There was copious death, lots of blood, a fair bit of screaming – overall, it was not the best 52 hours for anyone involved. 

When Sheppard managed to do whatever it was smarter than average Lieutenant Colonels do to beat out the military commanders of an entire population (honestly Rodney still had no clue what had gone on while he was being held captive and it was probably better for his sanity that he didn’t find out), the team found themselves walking through crop fields at a fast clip back to the gate.  They all knew they were being followed, but sans life signs detector they couldn’t tell how closely.  There was also the very real possibility of aircraft coming after them for a strafing run or two.  Regardless, all four of them, battered and bruised as they were, were on high alert, weapons held at the ready.  

And Rodney was a mess.  The kidnapping contingent had not been happy with his refusal to help them with their advanced weapons research and had resorted to a rather painful means of persuasion to get him to cooperate.  He was bleeding, his head was pounding where it had been bashed in, something in his rib cage felt wrong, and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Cue Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard who, despite being in a sorry state himself, saw fit to distract Rodney from his downward spiraling thoughts and near panic attack with the unexpected, if inane, question, “So Rodney, Newton or Leibniz?”           

“What?”  Rodney was so taken off guard that he actually stopped walking to stare at Sheppard, bewildered.

Sheppard grabbed his elbow in a loose hold and dragged him along for a few steps, looking about them warily, before Rodney got back with the program and started marching under his own power.          

“It’s not a hard question: Newton or Leibniz?  Who invented calculus first?” Sheppard said quietly and raised an eyebrow in Rodney’s direction.          

Out of nowhere, Rodney was suddenly filled with an irrational fury that Sheppard had asked him this stupid question.  The one useless, pointless question that he hated on a level he couldn’t even explain and yet it had been hotly debated by historians and mathematicians alike for centuries.  It was the single most preposterous thing for the world of academic scholarship to worry about, _and still they debated it._ Suffice it to say that Rodney completely forgot his current predicament and started in on his standard rant for the debate with near fanatical rage.

“Why does it even matter?  It’s such a stupid debate.  At the end of the day we have calculus and moreover, we have newer, better developed versions of calculus that are far more useful than anything either of them came up with in the seventeenth century!  People should focus more on the—ˮ

 “Rodney!” Sheppard interrupted, smirking.  “Just answer the question without the side lecture on the rigorization of the math.”

“But establishing the concept of limits was essential to – don’t you dare!” He cut himself off, pointing an accusing finger at the sudden mischievous glint in Sheppard’s eye.  “If you even think about telling me that ‘the limit does not exist’ I will shoot you in the kneecap!” (Rodney rued the day he’d been made to watch that ridiculous movie.  It was Sheppard’s fault, of course.)

With his most unconvincing innocent expression Sheppard claimed, “I would never say such a thing to you, Rodney.  I’m just curious about where you stand on this age old debate.”

Rodney huffed his displeasure at the colonel’s antics, one eye threatening to twitch in the effort of holding in his righteous indignation.  “Fine.  Newton.”

Sheppard blinked and made a face like Rodney had just said something stupid.  “That’s it?  No evidence to support your argument?”

“Are you kidding me? The evidence is implied!  Newton was the most brilliant scientist and mathematician of the Enlightenment.  His discoveries informed the next two and a half centuries of thought in the scientific world as well as the entirety of western philosophy and culture.  He invented calculus while he was essentially on a break from Cambridge due to a plague outbreak and then the Great Fire.  I’d like to see you be so productive on your time off,” Rodney finished with a sharp jab in Sheppard’s direction as they continued to trample through something that was not quite corn.           

“Pfft. Did he though?”  Sheppard countered in a low voice as he made some hand signal at Ronon ahead of them and tightened his grip on his P90.  “We all know that Leibniz was the first to publish in 1684.” 

Rodney waved a dismissive hand.  “Only because Newton wasn’t big on publishing much of anything for a while,” he explained, his voice automatically matching the low pitch of Sheppard’s.  “Besides, there’s documented evidence that Leibniz made visits to London in 1673 where he probably saw some of Newton’s work. And they exchanged letters for a few years after that where Leibniz asked for further explanations of Newton’s discoveries.  Ergo, Newton invented calculus first.” 

“I don’t know if I buy that,” Sheppard said with a glance at Rodney before scanning the sky in all directions and then focusing back on their surroundings.  “I mean sure, Newton may have had the idea first, but Leibniz actually thought about what he was doing and made it useful.  We still use his notation for differentiation and integration today.  I think that counts more as proper invention.” 

“Are you actually supporting the person who probably stole someone else’s idea?” Rodney asked indignantly.

Sheppard seemed to think about this while he watched Teyla maneuver closer to Ronon, say something quick, then retake her position at the rear of their group with a curt nod at the colonel. 

“No, not exactly.  More that there was a need for a new type of mathematics to describe continuous motion and change, so it’s not entirely unlikely that Leibniz could have come up with the idea on his own and then learned that Newton had been thinking about it at the same time.”  Sheppard paused briefly as he took in another hand signal from Ronon that made no sense to Rodney, but caused Sheppard to put a hand to Rodney’s back to silently urge him to a faster pace as they suddenly broke their forward progress with a sideways push deeper into the crop field, further away from the narrow path they had been paralleling.  After a minute or so he continued quietly, “Besides, Leibniz had a different approach.  It was more geometric and more elegant, in my opinion.  Newton’s idea of fluxions was kind of all over the place, you know?” 

Rodney was affronted.  “Just because you can’t follow his thinking as laid out in the _Principia_ , doesn’t mean it was wrong.  He was basing his math on real world observation, like an actual scientist, not just theory and Euclidean spaces.”           

The corner of Sheppard’s mouth that wasn’t part of a spreading purple bruise twitched in amusement.  “See, what we have here is a classic example of the physical scientist versus the pure mathematician.”           

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “Math is meant to be useful.  It’s for describing and understanding how the universe works, not for relating elliptic curves to right triangles for no discernible reason.” 

“That’s just it though, Rodney,” Sheppard said in a just barely audible voice full of emotion.  “Math is a language for describing the universe.  It’s beautiful and complex, yet builds order out of chaos.  How could you not want to learn all the intricacies of that language if it meant you could communicate more fluently with the universe?” 

Rodney could see his point when it was explained like that.  Sheppard’s weird and usually well-hidden love of math was clearly rooted in some deep connection he felt with the world around him, and wasn’t too dissimilar with Rodney’s own views on physics.  He just liked his work to have more practical application than what pure mathematicians got up to.  His tendency to turn up his nose at those who focused on theoretical math was only slightly lessened in the presence of _applied_ mathematics.  Maybe if pure mathematics was always described with Sheppard’s passion he would feel differently.  Probably not though. It was probably only because it was Sheppard saying it that Rodney was suddenly doubting his views. 

“Be that as it may,” Rodney conceded after a few minutes, “the necessity of science drove the invention of better math for describing changing motion and for that I support Newton as the progenitor of calculus.” 

“Well, fine then.  I suppose you’re entitled to your wrong opinions.” Sheppard gave a swift nod to Teyla who was suddenly right beside them while Rodney scoffed at the colonel. “Now for the really important question,” Sheppard paused for dramatic effect, “Fig Newton or Choco Leibniz biscuit?” 

Rodney narrowed his eyes at the colonel.  “Now you’re just mocking me.” 

Sheppard shrugged.  “Maybe.  But I wouldn’t say no to either one right now.  After you.”

Rodney followed his gesturing hand and stared, suddenly stunned at the rippling event horizon of the stargate in front of him.  He turned back to Sheppard with his mouth hanging open in surprise only to see a look of smug satisfaction on Sheppard’s bruised face.    Rodney had been so wrapped up in their debate that he hadn’t even noticed when they reached the gate, or even heard the telltale whoosh of the gate activating.  He hadn’t been nervous or panicky or even twitchy for the last twenty minutes, all because Sheppard had managed to completely distract him with a stupid argument. 

In the midst of this moment of shock and confusion, Ronon suddenly let loose with a deafening volley of gun shots which Teyla quickly echoed with her own P90. The ground around the stargate was quickly scorched with the heat of enemy fire, Rodney and Sheppard standing right in the middle of it. 

“Rodney go!” Sheppard shouted and forcefully shoved Rodney through the event horizon before taking up a better position to lay down cover fire as Ronon and Teyla made their way through the gate. 

As soon as the four of them were safely through the gate and it had shut down behind them, Rodney saw the way the shoulders of his three teammates relaxed and their bodies sagged in exhaustion.  He looked on, a bit dazed, as Sheppard exchanged words with Woolsey and one of the marines on duty in the gate room radioed down to medical to prep for various injuries and not just the standard post mission check-up.  He was honestly shocked at how he had completely forgotten how tense they all were, how injured.  Rodney brought a hand to his ribcage as his mind registered just how much pain he was in now that he had reminded himself of its existence.  He didn’t think he had a cracked rib since it didn’t hurt _that_ much to breathe, but there was going to be some very serious bruising over most of his midsection.  In addition to the pounding headache, he definitely had a split and swollen lip to contend with, as well as a still oozing knife wound in his arm.  Had he really pushed all that aside, along with the nerve-racking nature of the walk to the gate just to discuss something as trivial as the Newton vs. Leibniz debate with Sheppard? He was frankly astounded at himself. 

It was very clear that it had been a deliberate move on Sheppard’s part to engage Rodney in conversation.  Meanwhile, Ronon and Teyla took up their respective positions without any kind of signal that Rodney saw.  Either he missed it entirely, or they had some kind of protocol already in place that allowed Sheppard to stay with Rodney and keep him calm while Ronon ran point.  The thought that the colonel would even briefly give up complete command of a military situation to help him was surprisingly overwhelming. When he then factored in Ronon’s and Teyla’s silent and easy acceptance of everything he almost wanted to cry.  The trust they all had in each other and the obvious care they displayed toward him specifically was humbling. 

More to the point, Sheppard clearly knew him extremely well to pick a topic that was just the right amounts interesting and irritating to get Rodney to fully commit to the conversation.  He didn’t think anyone else he had ever known could have done the same thing with the same level of effectiveness. 

“Why did you do that?” he remembered asking Sheppard as they made their way to the infirmary. 

“Why did I do what?” 

“That! With the calculus debate!”

Sheppard sighed heavily and gave Rodney a searching look, “I…” he started before shaking his head and changing tack with a weary air.  “Don’t worry about it, Rodney.  We both needed it. That’s all.” 

Rodney hadn’t really known what that meant, but he let the matter drop when they arrived at the medical wing.  Was there more there that Rodney hadn’t seen at the time?  What was Sheppard originally going to say?  Did it matter?  Sheppard had made sure Rodney made it through the gate in one piece, both mentally and physically.  In Rodney’s eyes, he had gone above and beyond the necessary duties of a military commander in a combat scenario. 

Rodney frowned as he changed his diagnostic parameters on the shield for the fifth time and debated whether the Genii 2.0 Incident and other similar situations counted as actionable evidence in his attempt at gathering data on his relationship with Sheppard. 

Even if the weapons practice and the “keep McKay calm and focused” routine didn’t count toward a positive solution to the Sheppard Situation (Oh. That was new.  Apparently a “positive solution” in this case meant Sheppard having romantic leanings toward Rodney.  Interesting development), there was no way to change the fact that Sheppard had convinced a man to let a Wraith feed on him in Rodney’s stead.  That definitely counted as something. 

They had talked about it a little at the time.  Rodney told Sheppard how uncomfortable he was with what he had done and Sheppard had given a perfectly in character response about how he had only stated the facts and done what was necessary to protect his people.  And yes, Sheppard was well and truly a firm believer in the “no one left behind” ideal, but convincing someone to commit suicide by Wraith so that your friend didn’t have to was an unthinkable burden to carry.  At the end of that whole debacle Rodney was a jumble of conflicting emotions.  He was relieved beyond belief for himself and his sister, saddened by the necessary loss of life, a bit angry at Sheppard for doing what he did, but more overcome at Sheppard’s actions than anything. 

Rodney couldn’t even imagine what one had to be thinking in order to go into a room and talk a man into giving up his own life for someone they didn’t really know.  In all honesty and despite Sheppard’s own words on the matter, there was no way Rodney could imagine the lieutenant colonel doing the same thing for just any geologist or marine private on the expedition.  The fact that Sheppard wouldn’t look Rodney in the eye for about a week after the incident spoke volumes to that effect.  Rodney read shame, guilt, and embarrassment in Sheppard’s reluctance to be his usual self, but he couldn’t really understand the embarrassment at the time and so he shoved it out of his head.  Perhaps he should have considered the full meaning of Sheppard’s actions more carefully.

Even several years on from the incident Rodney remembered the whispered conversations he overheard in the hallways and the labs during that week.  Proving that the gossip train was alive and well in Atlantis, practically everyone knew what had happened almost immediately after their return to the city.  People’s feelings ran from astonishment, to disgust, to fierce pride at the lengths the military commander of Atlantis would go for his people.  Rodney couldn’t pin point his own feelings on the matter, but after about three days of Sheppard largely avoiding him aside from perfunctory greetings at regular meetings, Rodney knew he was deeply annoyed with the way everything was being handled. 

Sheppard had been spending an undue amount of time in his office doing paperwork (which he hated almost as much as the Wraith), messing around with the jumpers doing maintenance, or actually overseeing the daily activities of Atlantis’ military contingent.  His usual visits to the labs to bother Rodney had ceased and they hadn’t shared a meal since that dinner right after returning to Pegasus.  Rodney was willing to admit to himself that he missed his usual banter with Sheppard.  Hell, even Zelenka had pointed out that Rodney had been unusually cranky for a couple days. In a fit of desperation, Rodney had decided to search Atlantis top to bottom for Sheppard and have an actual conversation with him, when he caught the fringes of a conversation between a sergeant and a biologist (at least Rodney was pretty sure she was a biologist.  He didn’t really keep track of the soft sciences) in the mess. 

_“I’m telling you, James, there is something happening between them.  There has to be,” the soft scientist said._

_“And I keep telling you: they’re friends. Close friends.  Being on a team that faces life and death on a regular basis will do that.  It’s a thing that happens in the military all the time.”_

_“Please, I’ve seen the way Sheppard looks at him when he thinks he won’t get caught.  It’s more than friendship. Besides, like you said, Sheppard is Air Force.  He knows his duty and gets the job done, we’ve all seen how good he is. But when it comes to McKay he gets a little frantic.  Standard procedure tends to go out the window.  No way would he have let a man walk into the arms of a Wraith for anyone less than McKay.”_

_“I would argue that the lieutenant colonel doesn’t know the meaning of ‘standard operating procedure’ to begin with, but I see your point.”_

_“Thank you!”_

_“However, I think you’re forgetting that McKay is in a very definite and long term relationship with that one girl. Um, the plant lady.  With the hair?”_

_“Oh my god, you mean Katie Brown? And there’s nothing wrong with her hair.”  
_

_“That’s the one.  Dr. Katie Brown.”_

_“Okay, they are_ allegedly _in a long term relationship.  But after watching McKay and Sheppard together, I’m convinced she’s McKay’s beard.  Your dumb military has those stupid hang ups about homosexuality, and Sheppard is the military leader of the expedition, after all.”_

_“Hey!  The UCMJ is not my fault! For the record, I agree that Don’t Ask, Don’t tell should be demolished, then salted and burned for good measure. But don’t mock the entire military.”_

_“Fine, but the point is Sheppard and McKay_ belong _together as more than just a team.”_

Rodney had made a quick about-face and left the mess in a hurry to prevent himself from hearing anything else.  All thoughts of trying to find Sheppard and reason with him, or more likely, beat some sense into him until things returned to normal, fled in an instant.  He had no idea how he was supposed to look at Sheppard and have a serious conversation with him when that biologist’s words were filling his head.  He _belonged_ with Sheppard? Since when? 

As it happened Sheppard remained standoffish and Rodney awkwardly distracted for the remainder of the week.  Their next scheduled mission through the gate landed them in the midst of a primitive civil war and all previous personal conflicts were forgotten in favor of their usual quick and competent teamwork to get all four of them back to Atlantis safely.  Nothing like highly detailed threats of dismemberment while being accused of spying to shore up a lightly crumbled friendship.

Since things had returned to the status quo, Rodney never confronted Sheppard about what was going on with him after the Henry Wallace incident.  Now though, his reaction seemed a lot more significant. Was the touch of embarrassment he had noticed those years ago actually some kind of sign that Rodney had overlooked? Had Sheppard thought he had overplayed his hand and announced some grand love for Rodney with his actions?  

In the hard reality of his lab – complete with misbehaving shield generator that was still eluding Rodney’s problem solving abilities – Rodney snorted to himself.  It didn’t really sound like the Sheppard he knew, to be anything but completely confident in his actions whatever they were, but then this entire exercise was about rethinking what he thought he knew about the colonel.  It was true that Sheppard rarely, if ever, talked about himself and his past.  It was years before Rodney dragged a confession out of Sheppard that he had been married and divorced before the two of them even met in Antarctica. It was also true that as a man of few words, Sheppard preferred his deeds to speak for him.  Chances are, if the Henry Wallace thing had been some romantic gesture, Sheppard certainly wasn’t going to say anything about it. Ever.

Still, Rodney felt a little overwhelmed once again by the colonel’s actions when he thought about them from the new angle provided by the Sheppard Situation.  It was kind of a huge thing to do for someone. 

That thought led to a much more recent memory and suddenly put a few things in context for him.  Rodney put down his tablet and closed his eyes to breathe deeply.

When Jennifer had broken up with him she had said, “I just don’t think I can compete, and frankly, Rodney, I shouldn’t have to” before kissing him on the cheek and walking out of the room.  It wasn’t enough that he had just been dumped by someone he loved, but it had been done for a reason that made no sense and left him completely baffled.  He had gone after her to ask, completely bewildered, “Compete with what?”

Jennifer gave him a pitying look.  “Not what, Rodney.  Who.  And I should think that was obvious.  Even though you said you loved me, you never once called for me.  I tried to overlook it for months.  I rationalized it away by telling myself that you’ve known each other longer and you save one another so often its second nature now, but I can’t ignore it anymore.  I’ve watched you both since then and it’s written in your every interaction.  I won’t be second best any longer.”           

The explanation was no more helpful than her initial statement as it included no names and Rodney could get nothing else out of her.  Just a directive to do some thinking about what he “actually wanted.”

It was all coming together now.

It was Sheppard.  She had been referring to Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard as in competition for his affections.

Rodney buried his face in his hands as he had a self-realization that was apparently years in the making.

Jennifer was right after all.  When he had felt scared and confused as he lost his mind to that parasite he had called for the person that made him feel safe and taken care of.

He had called for John.

Not Jennifer.  Not even Sheppard.  John. 

Somewhere in his head the distinction in the names was important.  John was approachable, easy going, kind of dorky, and his best friend.  Sheppard was responsible, witty, quick, deadly, a bit sly, and his commanding officer in the field.  Of course he was really all of those things all of the time.  Sheppard was his best friend no matter what planet they were on, but Rodney had set a boundary for himself early on when he realized that his relationship with John Sheppard had the potential to develop in a couple different directions.  When he was “Sheppard” in Rodney’s thoughts he was unattainable.  But John was a relatively normal guy who Rodney could and did relate to in ways he didn’t fully comprehend.  When he didn’t know exactly who or where he was, he instinctively knew John would remember and hold onto those parts for Rodney because John knew him better than anyone.           

He scrubbed his hands over his face and up over his hair before sighing heavily.  Things were clearly not one sided in the Sheppard Situation.  If he was gathering data on their relationship, then he ought to look at it from his point of view as well.  What did he actually want from Sheppard? (Damn, Jennifer was right again.)

Rodney picked up the tablet again and checked some numbers before mentally diving into data examination part two, subheading: when did Rodney start thinking about Sheppard in a non-platonic way?

He had admitted to himself barely a few minutes ago that the idea of going on a date with Sheppard was not unwelcome, so he must have considered a more romantic relationship on some level at some point, despite his intentions at the outset of the expedition.  By his own admission, Rodney preferred his romantic partners to be blonde and busty, and Sheppard was distinctly lacking in both of those features.  On the other hand he did have the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing working in his favor. Whether the gravity defying hair was a plus in that category or not was still up for debate, but there was something undeniably attractive about the way Sheppard wore his uniform. 

Rodney had spent great swathes of his career working around military types and Sheppard was definitely a breed apart.  It wasn’t just the swagger, smirk, and I’m-so-cool-slouch that he affected. It had more to do with the way he wore his BDUs, which could only be described as _insouciant_.  Rodney was baffled at how most people in uniform looked action ready and distinctly military, but John Sheppard kitted out in uniform and thigh holster seemed to casually imply that he was an easy going guy who would only bother to kill you where you stood if you actively threatened his people, so if everyone just stayed cool they could all go catch a few waves together instead, yeah? 

In short, Rodney never minded looking at Sheppard in his BDUs because it proved a surprisingly fascinating and weirdly alluring sight. That probably counted pretty solidly as non-platonic and it did kind of stare him in the face every day, even if he had gotten really good at not reacting to the sight.

Next he considered that moment he’d never forget during that mammoth storm in their first year in Atlantis.  At only a few months into the expedition, Rodney was starting to define Sheppard in his head as impulsive, reckless, intelligent for a military cog, and tolerable enough in the long term.  Rodney privately thought his most useful quality was as a light switch for Ancient tech.  So of course, right in the midst of an impending crisis Sheppard forced Rodney to completely reevaluate those opinions. 

He had explained the way the storm’s lightning would theoretically travel through the city to the shield generators giving them the necessary power to protect Atlantis from the deadly waves.  Then Sheppard said, “Like dinosaurs turned into birds theoretically, or theory of relativity theoretically?” showing a surprising grasp of the situation and choosing unusual points of comparison.  Rodney’s brain had momentarily frozen in a loop of “ _Holy shit, he’s smart and attractive. Not fair!”_ as he just stared at Sheppard in astonishment before he forcibly took a hold of his mental processes and made a sharp left so that he could finish his explanation.  If the circumstances hadn’t been so pressing he probably would have spent a good five minutes just figuring out why those examples and what exactly Sheppard thought he knew about relativity.  It helped that the man had then proceeded to almost single handedly take out an entire Genii raiding party.           

Rodney absolutely boggled a couple weeks later when he learned that Sheppard had passed the Mensa test.  Sure at that point he was willing to admit that Sheppard was smarter than he acted, but he was still career Air Force and that wasn’t exactly a hot choice for the typical Mensa member.  Once again Rodney had been derailed by Sheppard’s apparent intelligence, and it made him want to sit down and pick his brain, although for what he didn’t know.  Of course, he had then been distracted from that line of thinking when they were betrayed not a few minutes later and had a perfectly good ZPM stolen out from under them.           

Still, when they got back to Atlantis, Rodney pulled up Sheppard’s files.  As the de facto system administrator for the Atlantis network Rodney had backdoor access to all manner of things he probably wasn’t supposed to see.  He made sure to use his powers for good, however, otherwise someone would find out and cut off his access.  As far as he was concerned reading Sheppard’s personal file barely counted as a transgression in the grand scheme of things.  The main problem was that he didn’t exactly know what to do with the newly revealed information that Sheppard had a B.S. in Mathematics from Stanford and a masters from M.I.T.  Rodney had stared at those few lines in Sheppard’s file trying to figure out how the man had managed that type of education given his incredibly active career path with the Air Force.  (Did M.I.T. do correspondence courses?  He didn’t think so.)  Not to mention he had apparently gotten top marks at Test Pilot School.           

Sheppard clearly had brains in spades compared to the majority of the human population, but he often hid it.  Still, once Rodney knew, he saw flashes of Sheppard’s intelligence in hundreds of different ways.  It completely changed how he interacted with the man.  They could have actual conversations full of smart remarks and dry witticisms.  It was invaluable in a place like Atlantis where the population was fairly static and finite.  Suddenly, surprisingly, John Sheppard became an invaluable friend to him.

Maybe that should have been a tip off.  Rodney was fairly certain it had started as a platonic effort even if it had veered off in new directions since then. In any case, it was rare that he actively and willingly engaged in the niceties of friendship. 

It was partially by choice, but Rodney never really had a lot of friends growing up.  It was mostly a side effect of being so far ahead in school and not having the patience to suffer idiots.  Other people just weren’t worth his time.  That only started to change when he was doing his first doctorate and there were finally people closer to his level of intelligence around him, but he had never had a best friend before. It had been a pleasant shock to abruptly realize one day in the mess as he and Sheppard sat together with Major Lorne and Teyla debating the merits of mashed potatoes versus a steamed Athosian tuber, that he was essentially sitting at the cool kids table, elbow to elbow with the most swaggering flyboy on the base.  Not only did Rodney actually fit in when he was with Sheppard, but it was expected that he would be by Sheppard’s side, whether it was in the field or childishly arguing about mashed potatoes. He took new enjoyment in how the two of them could trade barbs and insults and yet still laugh together over Teyla beating the crap out of some newly arrived marine twice her size who had the gall to completely underestimate her.            

He loved that he could have a beer or two with Sheppard out on the pier while he complained about the stupid shit his team tried to pass off as legitimate science.  Sheppard would then, with great patience and humor, talk him down from wanting to fire everyone in sight.  For example, the time Rodney wanted to axe the entire geology department. Despite his protests to the contrary, geologists were apparently useful for identifying raw minerals that they could either refine or trade, as well as doing all manner of ground water testing on myriad planets, or the type of geological survey that might yield useful information for a more primitive population.  “Besides,” Sheppard continued on the night of the Great Copper Ore Displacement Conspiracy, which had only ended when Sheppard bodily dragged Rodney away from an all-out argument with three geologists and a botanist, “my mom had a rock collection that she kept in this glass case that I wasn’t allowed to mess with.  It wasn’t all pretty crystals and stuff.  She had a bunch of bits of petrified bog moss and banded metamorphic rocks and all these funky igneous rocks.  So I figure geology is pretty cool, if Mom liked it.”  And what was Rodney supposed to say to that?  He bitched a little more for forms sake, but Sheppard had taken all the wind out of his sails as per usual.  It was probably for the best anyway.          

Other times they would sit and watch the sunset over the water and strike up a debate about whether or not the SGC needed a Prime Directive or if the presence of a stargate and the obviously advanced Wraith technology sort of negated the whole concept.  It was a conversation they returned to every now and again.  They would go back and forth about if the non-interference policy was practical or referred to more than just technology.  On grim days Sheppard would decry the times the team’s mere presence on a planet and the knowledge they held about the universe completely changed a society’s structure and natural development and how they had no right to try to make other people live as they did.  Yet at other times, Rodney marveled at how the Prime Directive conversation could verge on the ridiculous _–_

_“Did you not notice their ‘clothing’? I’m pretty sure a gift of a sewing machine would do more good than harm in this case.”_

_“How exactly would they power it, McKay?  You can’t just plug it into the ground. Which means all kinds of new science they aren’t even close to having.”_

_“It would be foot powered,” he told Sheppard like it was obvious.  “I’m pretty sure that’s how old sewing machines worked before there was cheap wide spread electricity. Then all we’d be affecting is their fashion industry.  For the better!”_

– while some days it seemed to strike at the heart of how they conducted themselves on offworld missions.            

It echoed how they seemed to live their lives.  Facing down death on a regular basis tempered with bouts of silliness that had Teyla rolling her eyes.  It followed that neither he nor Sheppard were all math, science, and work all the time.  They needed a healthy-ish work-life balance too, even in Pegasus.  Hence they spent much of their free time together, and Rodney loved every minute of it.  John Sheppard was just fun to talk to, or aimlessly hang out with, or even watch stupid movies with. (Atlantis had a thriving underground digital movie trade that involved a complicated barter system. After John had laughed uproariously when Rodney had been talked out of a week’s worth of desserts plus one “Get Out of Scolding for Stupidity Free” card that he had been forced to make and sign on the spot for a single copy of _War of the Worlds_ , he made John responsible for acquiring their visual media.  This was how he had come to watch that regrettable movie with the math and the pink.)  Sometimes though, they each just needed to talk to someone without it being marked on record that they had been to see Dr. Heightmeyer. 

There was one such conversation Rodney had with Sheppard time and again that even after a few years he still treasured and it tended to happen over chess.  He easily remembered the first time Sheppard had shown up at his quarters with a chessboard under his arm, a bag of pieces in his pocket, and a complicated expression on his face.  Rodney let him in with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and helped set up the board.  After several minutes of pensive silence as they played Sheppard finally spoke, “Do you ever think about what it means for us to fight the Wraith the way we are?”           

“You mean as a vastly outnumbered and technologically outmatched science and exploratory expedition?” Rodney asked perplexed. 

“No, I mean to the death,” Sheppard said as he claimed one of Rodney’s knights. 

Rodney frowned and studied the board.  “Well, as I would prefer not to have my life-force sucked out by a space vampire, it’s them or me.  I choose me.”  He slid a pawn forward to block what he thought was Sheppard’s strategy.

“Exactly,” the colonel replied unexpectedly.  “But think about that mind set in the big picture.  If we can’t find some sort of ground to negotiate on, we’re on a path to xenocide.  Are you really okay with that?”

Rodney looked up to stare at Sheppard.  The complicated look from earlier made sense now.  He wore a similar expression at the moment, but it was tinged with just a hint of desperation, as though he was hoping Rodney would be able to help assuage his conscience. 

Cautiously Rodney said, “It’s not like they wouldn’t kill us if they could.”

Sheppard huffed out a breath and frowned.  Rodney got the distinct impression that he had given the wrong answer.

“Yes, they may one day manage to take out Atlantis and they’ll cull thousands or millions more, but the fact is, they can’t kill off the entire human race altogether.  We’re their food source.  The human population in the Pegasus Galaxy may be kept in a weakened state and so sparsely spread and terrified that there could be no real hope of resistance, but they’d still survive. Not to mention there are humans still in the Milky Way.  We don’t have that kind of bar holding us back.  We either come to some sort of détente in which we trade the lives of untold humans elsewhere in the galaxy for our own protection or we wipe out the Wraith entirely and learn to live with the death of a sentient species on our hands.”           

After a minute or so Rodney let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shook his head.  As much as he hated the Wraith and their reign of terror, was that enough to justify extinguishing them from existence?  “Not great options.” 

“No, they’re really not.”  Sheppard stared back down at the board and maneuvered his Rook to take one of Rodney’s pawns.  “Checkmate in four.”

Rodney frowned and tried to see the board the way Sheppard did, but it was difficult with his mind so distracted.

The question of xenocide hung somberly between them for the rest of the night even as they eventually moved on to other topics.  That question of morality never left them though, and their conversation about it continued to evolve after every large encounter with the Wraith.  At first it had surprised Rodney a little that Sheppard would think about such things at all when his job as part of the military implied a certain amount of familiarity with the necessity of killing dangerous things or people, but perhaps that was why he asked the question.  He had to find a way to cope with what he did every day.  Rodney, on the other hand, didn’t often think beyond his immediate well-being and happiness, yet here was Sheppard forcing Rodney to consider how his actions as part of the expedition would affect an entire galaxy worth of people. 

Mostly he was touched that he was the one Sheppard went to when he was struggling with big questions.  It wasn’t something he’d ever expect someone to seek him out for, let alone Sheppard.  Teyla (and back in the day, Elizabeth) was the person one usually went to for moral or philosophical guidance.  Add to that the fact that Sheppard didn’t really talk to anyone about anything personally significant and there were very few conclusions Rodney could draw from Sheppard’s willingness to seek him out.  That was when Rodney stopped doubting that he was as important to Sheppard as the colonel was to him.

It was clear that they leaned on each other for support and camaraderie.  In examining these moments from a new perspective he could see what others must have seen.  How Rodney went to Sheppard when he wanted to talk something out or share a new discovery. Or how Sheppard sought out Rodney’s company when he had a chance to relax for a moment and they could both take a break from saving the city.  It was hard to miss how they occasionally stood too close to each other and touched in small, but comforting, ways: A hand on the shoulder, a smack to the head, a light brush of an arm.  They frequently shared meals and stole food from one another’s trays without batting an eye.  Their daily interactions implied a level of familiarity that neither of them displayed with other people.  Honestly, Rodney hadn’t been as comfortable physically or conversationally with either Katie or Jennifer as he was with Sheppard, and he had thought of marrying both of them (not at the same time, of course) at one time or another. 

When looked at all together, it was suddenly clear that he spent a great deal of time with Sheppard and shared most of his important memories with him as well.  Moreover, to an outside observer their behavior could easily be interpreted as something almost intimate.  He shifted slightly in his seat as he realized that Jennifer was probably right.  Again.  

Would it be so bad if he did have feelings for a man that was smart, funny, brave, attractive, and most important intelligent?  Their shared friendship meant so much to him already, but what if it could be more?  If he were to be completely truthful with himself, then he would have to admit that he had already started to give up on not falling for Sheppard after one of the most uninteresting and useless reconnaissance missions he’d ever been on, but one that he would never forget for how important it ended up being to him personally.  It actually happened not long before Jennifer had broken up with him and with hindsight Rodney could almost pinpoint the moment his defenses against Sheppard had melted.  

Some months ago the team had been scoping out M4H-379, a sparsely populated, temperate planet that bore a remarkable resemblance to Kansas from what Rodney could tell.  For some reason or another they had ended up staying the night in an area with almost no cover to speak of.  They hadn’t run into much trouble throughout the day, but there were definitely signs of some kind of civilization that did a moderate amount of successful big game hunting in the region.  The life signs detector wasn’t picking up anything helpful.  In fact, it was acting up more often than not, so the four of them were all a little on edge.  Sheppard set up a watch rotation for the night, claimed the first shift and told everyone to get some rest.  True to form, Ronon fell asleep with an ease that Rodney envied.  Teyla sat in silent meditation for few minutes then she too was out.  Despite being exhausted from the day’s trek and the stress of being at a low level of alert for hours, Rodney couldn’t get his brain to stop buzzing long enough for him to fall asleep.  

After half an hour of useless fidgeting he sat up, sighed heavily, and turned to Sheppard.  “There is no way I’m going to fall asleep anytime soon.  My back has gone into full rebellion over lying on the ground anyway.  You should sleep now, Colonel, and I’ll take the first watch.”           

Sheppard stared at him blankly for few seconds before nodding his acknowledgment, then resumed staring into the darkness.           

Rodney stayed quiet and just watched him for a while.  The colonel seemed to be lost in thought about something that was making his forehead wrinkle in concentration.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rodney asked quietly, unable to hold on to his silence anymore.

Sheppard’s expression turned unexpectedly sheepish.  “I was just thinking a bit about Navier-Stokes actually.”

Rodney blinked.  “You’re in the middle of an offworld mission and you’re thinking about unsolvable problems in fluid dynamics?”

“I don’t really have anything better to do at the moment,” Sheppard said with a shrug.

Rodney had to agree.  “Well then, let’s have it.  Any new breakthroughs that I should be checking your work on?”

Sheppard made a face at him but seemed to consider his answer.  “Well, the major road blocks are the viscosity term, the three dimensional aspect, and the time factor right?”

A nod of agreement from Rodney.

“I’ve given it a go using standard differential calculus, vector calculus – because this is definitely a problem for field theory and the notation is way easier to work with – and even a nonlinear approach or two,” he paused and narrowed his eyes at Rodney, “I got nowhere.” 

This was not exactly surprising.  The world’s top mathematicians had been looking for a solution to the Navier-Stokes equations for over two hundred years.  Hell, it wasn’t even known if a solution was even possible! Still, this was extremely high level stuff.  Even with various math degrees, Rodney found it unlikely that Sheppard would understand the intricacies of the problem well enough to even think about ways to approach it.  It was definitely nothing Rodney felt like banging his head against.  Frankly, the Yang-Mills theory and Mass Gap Hypothesis was more his speed – the proof of which would basically lead to a Grand Unified Theory and what physicist didn’t want to find that? – But he didn’t exactly have time to be working on theoretical mathematics when each new day in Atlantis brought unthinkable challenges.  It admittedly impressed him that Sheppard was thinking about it at all. Granted, Navier-Stokes was all about how gases and fluids behaved and interacted with surfaces, pressure, and forces which had direct consequences for things like airplanes, thus putting the topic pretty squarely in Sheppard’s wheelhouse. 

“So, I’m thinking we need a completely new method of functional analysis in order to find a solution,” Sheppard stated. 

“Ohhh…kay,” Rodney said thinking this through. It sounded a little outlandish, but not completely unheard of.  Well actually, it sounded completely _Sheppard_ to want to change the rules of the game in order to win it.  “So how goes this one man coup of the math world?”

Sheppard rolled his eyes.  “Believe it or not, McKay, my current job doesn’t leave me with a lot of time to revolutionize modern mathematics, but who’s keeping track?”

“Oh please.  You’ve clearly thought about this, or you wouldn’t have said anything.  I’m probably the only person in this galaxy who could do anything to help you invent new math, so out with it!”

Sheppard shifted his sitting position and did a visual sweep of the surrounding area before answering. 

“I’ve been looking over the work you’ve been doing on wormhole theory now that we have more access to the Ancient database.”

“Wait,” Rodney interrupted, “you understand wormhole theory?”  Would wonders never cease when it came to this man?  For some reason his heart had picked up speed at the thought.

“Not entirely,” Sheppard admitted, “but enough.  The main point is how you’ve been approaching matter flow through the wormhole.  You incorporated Ancient techniques that are beyond anything we have, which allowed you to reanalyze momentum conservation and the continuity equation with respect to mass as matter traveled through the wormhole.”

“Yes, I suppose it did…” Rodney trailed off, his mind already blazing ahead to match the thundering of his heart.

“So you can see where I’m going with this. We expand on that idea and work in external forces and viscosity and what not,” prompted Sheppard. 

“Yes, yes!  It’s definitely a…could work if we… then there’s the Reynold’s number to compensate for, hmmm…” 

Sheppard let him continue on in this vein for a few minutes, incomplete mumblings and all, before he made Rodney discuss what he was thinking aloud.  Needless to say they talked in increasing abstraction, occasionally scratching equations in the dirt by firelight, until Rodney’s eyes crossed and he pretty much passed out mid-thought.           

The next thing he knew Teyla was shaking him awake for the last watch of the pre-dawn hours and Sheppard was curled up next to him soundly asleep. The rest of the mission was boringly uneventful and frankly a waste of time, but Rodney didn’t complain once.  His mind was completely engaged.  Every so often he would throw a thought out to Sheppard whose response would either confirm Rodney’s thinking or make him go “Huh,” and reroute his approach – something that hadn’t happened in years (The curse of being the smartest man in two galaxies).  Some part of his brain had registered the raised eyebrows Ronon and Teyla were giving both him and the colonel, but he paid them no heed.            

Sheppard had given him something incredibly unique: a problem he could work on using cutting edge science and math that didn’t have a deadline or lives at stake, but if properly solved could have enormous ramifications for more than just the SGC.  If he played his cards right he might even be able to publish it!  Navier-Stokes wasn’t classified and he was reasonably certain he could couch the Ancient math in terms that would hide its origins.  Sheppard’s brain had seen connections that Rodney hadn’t even thought of and it resulted in this gift, this project he could keep returning to when he wanted to remember what doing science for the sake of science was all about.  Just thinking about it made him smile.  When he cracked it, he decided he would give Sheppard co-author status for contributing the initial idea and for being a sounding board during the process of writing what was sure to be a Nobel Prize winning paper.  It was the least Rodney could do. 

He was willing to partially share credit on a Nobel Prize.  That right there should have been a red flag. 

So, yes, Sheppard’s intellect was wildly attractive, but it was his generosity in sharing it with Rodney that was so surprisingly comforting. It implied a trust that Rodney would not criticize him for existing outside of the prescribed mold of the military man; that Rodney would accept his cleverness for what it was worth and not dismiss it as others might.  How could he not value Sheppard for all that he brought to the table?  They thought in such different ways and focused their unique brands of intelligence on different subjects with just enough overlap that they could both challenge and check each other.  Rodney could think of no better a trait for a partner for him.  

Ever since that mission and all the thoughts it had inspired, both mathematical and personal, Rodney had been carrying around this strange sense of longing when he was with Sheppard, but he had mostly ignored it out of force of habit. 

It seemed the time had come to stop ignoring what was right in front of his eyes.

He was going to go on a semi-romantic date with John Sheppard and he would see where things went from there. 

Rodney deliberately put down his tablet and checked his watch.  It was about 18:15 now (which, wow, meant he had been thinking about the Sheppard Situation for three hours without even noticing) so John would be coming to pick him up in another fifteen minutes or so.  Was he ready for this?

He looked down at his utilitarian khakis and expedition standard issue blue shirt.  Was he supposed to change?  Did he even have time to make it back to his quarters and change? And change into what? What if he missed Sheppard coming to pick him up because he went back to his quarters to mess with what he was wearing? What exactly was Sheppard expecting?  He honestly couldn’t picture either himself or Sheppard dressed up in slacks and a blazer to have dinner with each other, but that’s what he had done for Katie and Jennifer so perhaps he should follow standard date protocol.

Except the whole point was that they could be themselves with each other, not who they thought the other wanted.  So there was no point in changing his clothes.

But he wanted to look nice so that Sheppard would know that Rodney understood what was going on and was taking it seriously.  So… he should change?  Why was this so complicated?

“Rodney!”

The sound of Zelenka’s voice calling his name cut through the cacophony of questions filling Rodney’s mind.

“Yes, yes. What is it?” he snapped.

“Are you well?  I called you several times and you did not respond.  In fact, it looked as though you had stopped breathing for a minute and you had this panicked look on your face.”

For a brief moment Rodney worried that Zelenka had somehow figured out what was going on with him and Sheppard and felt his eyes go wide with anxiety before realizing that he was being stupid.  “I’m fine. Everything is fine.  There’s no panicking happening. Why would you think that?”

Zelenka looked mildly bewildered at Rodney’s behavior, but remained undeterred.  “Well I thought maybe you had figured out what was going on with the shield, as I can make neither head nor tails of it.”  He shook his head and plowed on before Rodney could interject.  “It seems almost as if the shield generators are getting themselves all worked up, causing the frequency fluctuations as the energy distribution flows change erratically, then the city realizes what’s going on and consciously tries to normalize the energy flow before the whole process starts again.  If Atlantis was alive I would say she’s taking deep breaths to keep from overloading the outputs or, to put it bluntly, to keep from freaking out.”

Rodney blinked a few times before understanding crashed into him.  Oh. His mouth fell open in surprise. _Oh._ Well, that solved the question of the source of the shield problems.  He was also somewhat relieved that Sheppard appeared to be as nervous about their imminent date as he was and had been for most of the day.  Of course it begged the question, how did Atlantis become so finely tuned to Sheppard’s emotions when he wasn’t in the chair, and how long had this been going on? 

“I think I actually know what’s going on with the shield,” he said with just a hint of hesitation.  After all, he wouldn’t be one hundred percent certain until he was able to run a few tests on Sheppard himself.

“You do?” Zelenka said in surprise.  “I do not think we want to live with an unreliable shield. Can you fix it?”

Rodney felt a small smile escape as he replied, “Yeah. I think I can.”

Zelenka’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “What are you—ˮ

“Sheppard to McKay,” Sheppard’s voice interrupted in Rodney’s ear. 

He tapped his radio headset, suddenly nervous that John was going to call off the whole thing via _radio_.  “McKay here.  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong on my end.  I was just wondering if you managed to resolve that foam thing.”

That wasn’t what Rodney had expected.  “Yeah, of course.  That’s been cleaned up for a couple hours at least.  I assigned Kavanagh to do the last of the delicate hand cleaning of any of the equipment that had been submerged.” 

“Sounds tedious and less than he probably deserves. However, I take it that means I can come get you for dinner then?” 

Rodney looked down at himself in his everyday practical trousers and shirt and shrugged.  “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

“Great.  I’ll be there in five.  Sheppard out.” 

Clearly Sheppard was also just getting off duty so he would in all likelihood still be in some variation of his uniform.  Apparently Rodney had panicked for nothing. 

This was really going to happen.  He and Sheppard were going to have a nice dinner and talk about… things?  Oh god, what would they talk about?  Work was probably out of the question, they didn’t need to worry about the get-to-know-you questions, and they debated movies and superheroes all the time.  Should he update Sheppard on his progress with Navier-Stokes? He would probably be interested, but did Rodney really want to be discussing the effects of convective acceleration in fluids on a first date?  Probably not.  That seemed like a normal lunch time in the mess type conversation.  Which meant he still had no idea what to talk about with Sheppard. 

Holy shit he was nervous!  He had to keep telling himself it was just Sheppard.  Still, he couldn’t help but think of his previous disastrous first dates and worry (that one with Katie when Rodney had been sharing a body with Lieutenant Cadman still made him shudder in horror).  There was so much more at stake here.  If things went sideways, Rodney could lose his best friend and that was unacceptable.  So yeah, he was really nervous. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Rodney?” Zelenka inquired.  Rodney flinched at the sound of his voice.  He had almost forgotten Zelenka was still standing right next to him.  “You don’t look well.” 

“No, I’m fine.  Nothing to worry about,” Rodney replied as the door to the lab hissed open to reveal Sheppard standing there in his standard issue cargo trousers, black t-shirt, wristband, and permanently tousled hair.  He had removed his sidearm at least.  Rodney turned back to Zelenka with a deep breath.  “I’ll just go take care of that shield problem then, shall I?” 

“Do you want help?” asked Zelenka still concerned. 

Rodney waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder as he moved toward Sheppard.  “Nah, I got this. Shall we?” he finished with a gesture to the colonel. 

“Shield problem?” Sheppard asked as they started along the corridor.  “Did you figure out what was causing the oscillations then?” 

“I have a pretty good hunch about what the problem is.”  Rodney turned his gaze on his companion.  “You haven’t figured it out?  It’s been almost all day.” 

Rodney got an incredulous look in return for that one.  “How would I figure it out?  That’s your job not mine!” 

“If you had had one hour with the diagnostic read outs you probably would have figured it out before I did,” admitted Rodney.  Then as nonchalantly as he could manage, “It’s reacting to you after all.” 

Sheppard paused mid-stride.  “Wait, what?” 

“Like I said, it’s just a hunch, but my hunches are better than most people’s so called evidence based conclusions. I’m guessing you’ve been a bit jittery all day about this,” Rodney paused before testing the word out loud, “date.” 

In a slight panic, Sheppard looked to see if anyone was within hearing distance, then snapped his head around to look Rodney in the eye.  After a moment he cleared his throat and started walking again.  “Maybe.” 

Rodney was tempted to roll his eyes.  “Uh huh, well, somehow – and we’re going to have to do some tests to figure this out you realize – the city picked up on it and is interpreting your nervousness by routing more energy to the shield generator to bulk up defenses as it were.” 

Sheppard pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Rodney as they arrived at a transporter.  “Bypassing the fact that Atlantis and I are somehow communing without the interface chair, are you saying that in addition to being nervous about asking out my best friend who has never, to my knowledge, expressed an interest in me, or you know, guys in general, I’m also feeling vulnerable? And the city _knows_?” 

“That’s probably a good way of putting it, yes.” 

“Huh,” He said and lapsed into silence as they were zapped to the other side of the city. 

Meanwhile Rodney was having an internal debate about how to address Sheppard’s obliquely stated question.  Was now the time to admit that Sheppard had pretty much induced a crisis of sexual identity for Rodney a couple of years ago?  Of course, he had never really resolved anything to his satisfaction because his personal crises were so grossly overshadowed by the often dire circumstances in Atlantis that he had pushed the issue to the back of his mind and moved on.  After all, none of his personal questioning made Sheppard anymore attainable at the time, and their friendship was too important to Rodney for him to risk any wayward thoughts of something more. 

If there ever was going to be a time to take that risk it was in this moment.  It might help to ease Sheppard’s mind, if nothing else. 

When the silence between them had stretched into awkwardness as they walked, Rodney managed to speak up before things could start going any further downhill.  “For the record, there’s a reason I never said anything. I’ve worked for the American military for a long time.  I learned early on what things I can make apparent and what parts of myself are better not to have out there as public knowledge.  So when I figured out a few things, well mostly, I decided not to advertise.  This may be a scientific expedition, but the SGC is a military endeavor.  It seemed safer.” He shrugged and looked for Sheppard’s reaction out of the corner of his eye.  

This confession didn’t seem to illicit anything more than a furrowed eyebrow.  It looked a little like Sheppard’s thinking face though, so maybe that was good. 

“If it helps, I’m pretty nervous right now too.  I mean there’s a lot at stake here.  We’ve known each other for five years and suddenly we’re doing this?  What happens if we…” he trailed off as he realized it might not be a great idea to bring up the potential for them to crash and burn before their first date had even properly started.  “It’s just a bit unexpected from you, is all I mean.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t really see it coming either.”          

“Really?”  Rodney asked a bit skeptically, both eyebrows raised. Sheppard had been the one to make the first move, after all.  He must have had some thoughts about it.  “I guess that makes two of us then.  Despite the apparently ample evidence pointing to you and me having had a thing for each other for years.” 

Sheppard grimaced.  “That’s pretty much what Teyla said too.” 

“Wait, you talked to Teyla about this?  Oh god, who else?” 

“Relax, I just asked her for some advice.  Can you blame me?  I was having emotions and I kind of freaked out.  This is a little new for me.” 

“Oh,” Rodney said in a small voice.  “Um, why exactly were you having emotions?  It’s not like you to emote out of the blue.” 

To Rodney’s surprise, Sheppard (John? He should probably start thinking of him as John since they were on a date) blushed and determinedly avoided Rodney’s gaze.  “I may have overheard some people talking about you being on the market again and making bets about who would ask you out next.  It kind of sounded like there was a priority waiting list?”  John’s face twisted up in disgust while Rodney was shocked into silence.  “The whole subject made me, shall we say, displeased?  I probably broke up their betting pool with a little more force than necessary. My regular sparring session with the marines that afternoon was a bit of a disaster.  Four of them ended up in the infirmary and Beckett chewed me out for it.  That’s when Teyla found me and asked what was up.” 

By now the two of them were climbing the last flight of stairs up to the balcony on the West Tower.  Judging by the red flush to John’s face and the nervous hand scratching at the back of his neck, that little explanation had cost John dearly.  For Rodney though, something in him burst with joy and relief.  He tried to get his expression, something hovering between slack-jawed amazement and a huge grin, under control.  “I had no idea I was so sought after!  Thank you for defending my honor against the ravenous hordes!” 

Something in John’s posture got defensive.  “I just didn’t like the idea of you walking the halls with someone new by your side, okay?  Once Teyla wheedled that out of me she presented a kind of embarrassing argument that showed I haven’t been all that subtle about you and that maybe there was an obvious reason for why I have never really gotten along with Dr. Keller.  I thought about it for a few days, and well,” he shrugged helplessly, “here we are.” 

“Wow. I feel like I owe Teyla a fruit basket or something.”  John snorted in response then made his way out onto the balcony and into the cool sea air.  Rodney followed and leaned against the railing next to John.  “I’m serious.  How she saw beyond your Kirk routine is beyond me.  How long have you—I mean I never noticed anything.  Not until I sat down and really thought about it just a few hours ago.  Honestly, I’m still having a hard time believing this whole situation." 

“I told you that I was just being friendly with those few women, and that was the truth.  There was no malicious flirting, even if that’s what it looked like to you.” John sighed and ran a hand through his already wild hair. He glanced at Rodney and seemed to come to a decision.  “I’ve pretty much been surrounded all my life by people or institutions that had very definite ideas about who I was allowed to be.  There were some battles that I could fight and risk losing without unbearable consequences.  You already know about the black marks on my record for my disobedience and so called ‘lack of proper respect’ for my superior officers.  But there were other battles that were not worth me losing the one thing I ever really wanted.”         

“And what was that?” Rodney asked quietly, already having a good guess at what the answer would be. 

John’s smile was small, rueful.  “Flying.  Ever since I was little it was all I wanted to do.  My father was not exactly thrilled with the idea since he wanted me to take over the family business, but there wasn’t much he could do. Or rather, there wasn’t much I would let him maneuver me into doing.  When he found out about—ˮ he paused and swallowed, seeming to gather his courage before continuing, “—about me not being all that into women, he screamed a lot and made threats to end my career in the Air Force before it even began.  

“So I faked it.  I learned to smile at everyone and play nice.  I got involved with Nancy, who I loved on some level and we were happy for a little while, but it was pretty evident that it was never going to actually work between us.  By then I was firmly entrenched in the Air Force, flying choppers in Afghanistan.  The guys in my unit were the most important thing to me and they related best to a Shep who was smart, just not Mensa smart, who charmed women, and swaggered like Captain Kirk, as you’re so fond of pointing out.  I was so used to being that person that it just kind of became my default.  It simply wasn’t all of who I was. Who I am.” 

That was perhaps the longest personal speech Rodney had ever heard John make.  He was a little stunned.  It wasn’t the content that surprised him, merely John’s willingness to share it. 

“Do you do that with me?  Put on the flyboy persona?” He asked quietly, suddenly worried that he had never actually known John at all. 

“No.  I don’t bother with the whole charade much anymore.” He looked over at Rodney and smiled briefly.  “I never have with you.  I made a deal with myself when I flipped the coin that sent me to Atlantis.  I was done trying to please other people by being a good little soldier.  What could they do?” John asked with a sardonic twist to his mouth.  “They had already exiled me to Antarctica.  Even if they kicked me out of Atlantis, at least I would have been to another galaxy.  I didn’t realize how quickly I had adapted to having more freedom until we went back to Earth that first time.” 

“Oh.  And that freedom also extended to your relationship with me? Eventually?” 

John turned away to face the water again.  “Yeah, I guess. After the siege I caught myself thinking about you all the time and how ‘So long, Rodney’ would have been really stupid last words to say to you, but then you started seeing Katie Brown.  I told myself it was a bad idea anyway and moved on.  Or I thought I did.  I guess I just ignored it in favor of everything else that’s always going on. Except I couldn’t ignore it when you got kidnapped, or tried to play the martyr, or got sick.  God, Rodney, you blew up three quarters of a solar system, abused my trust to do it, and I could barely stay mad at you for more than a week!  You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.  I cannot deal with the thought of possibly losing you.”  John was no longer standing calmly next to Rodney looking out over the ocean.  Now he was slightly hunched with tension, eyes closed, and gripping the railing so tightly his hands had turned white. 

That gave Rodney pause.  It was surprising to see just how much John felt, the vehemence of it.  He usually hid everything.  In a way, it was humbling that he, Rodney McKay, could cause this type of reaction in the always stoic John Sheppard. 

Perhaps more importantly, John’s thoughts didn’t seem to be all that different from the ones that had run through Rodney’s head earlier.  In addition, all of Rodney’s earlier musings had managed to skip over the Doranda incident entirely.  As it represented some of his worst moments during the course of his time on Atlantis, he wasn’t entirely surprised.  He did, however, very clearly remember the crushing feeling he got when he had gone to apologize to John and realized that he may have broken something that he couldn’t actually fix.  The relief he had felt when John tossed him the lifeline of being able to earn back his respect and trust was so immense and all-consuming that Rodney privately vowed to do whatever it took, for however long it took, without complaint, to win John over.  Unknown to either of them at the time, the whole thing was just one more example of how much they had come to mean to each other, even back then.  They had both been unwilling to let anything damage what they had and it resulted in them eventually becoming a closer, far more formidable team than what they could each achieve apart.

That being said, there was one part of John’s speech that Rodney wanted some clarification on. “Do you still think it’s a bad idea?  Cause from where I’m standing, it seems like a pretty great idea. We’ve both been ignoring something that’s been staring us in the face: we are better together.  I’m a genius and you’re reasonably intelligent, so we can’t both be wrong.  I do have supporting evidence if you want to hear it.  I know how to defend my arguments, unlike some people around here.” 

A smile twitched around John’s lips before his face fell. “Honestly,” John began with an unhappy expression, “Yeah, it is a bad idea, Rodney.  If we’re not careful I could lose my job and get shipped back to Earth.  We’re surrounded by incredibly smart and perceptive people and it won’t take much for them to figure out something is going on with us.  A lot of them probably won’t care, but all it takes is for one person to say something to Caldwell or anyone else who regularly reports to the SGC.  And given the way news, especially confidential news, travels here, it’s more of a question of _when_ everyone finds out, rather than _if_.  It’s a big risk to take.”  He looked straight into Rodney’s eyes and asked, “Do you still think it’s worth it?” 

Rodney blinked.  He hadn’t gotten all the way to the point of thinking about the consequences of dating John.  They’d have to keep it a secret from everyone but the few people they could both completely trust.  But John was right, they’d never be able to hide forever.  What would he do if faced with John’s deportation?  He wasn’t sure if he could be happy back on Earth knowing Atlantis was continuing on without him, even if he was with John. 

“If they did try to take you away, we could find a work around,” Rodney blurt out frantically.  “You still have the strongest expression of the ATA gene of anyone here and your knowledge of the Pegasus Galaxy is invaluable.  We could probably find a way to make sure you stayed on as a civilian consultant. Hell, I’d find a way to smuggle you in if I had to.” 

A small smile hovered on John’s lips.  “I like the sound of that. ‘We.’”  He tilted his head, considering.  “You know what?  I propose an experiment instead. That way we can decide based on empirical data.” 

Rodney narrowed his eyes in consideration.  He was always a fan of the scientific method, but he didn’t really know where John was going with this.  “Okay.  What did you have in mind?” 

John’s smile got a little bigger as he turned to fully face Rodney.  “Nothing too complicated,” he said moving into Rodney’s space.  Rodney stood upright to meet John’s advance without backing away.  “Just something to see if there are any sparks,” John said.  His hazel eyes bored straight into Rodney’s blue ones and seemed to smolder. 

The next second it clicked for Rodney that John was leaning in, which meant John was going to kiss him.  Holy shit! 

As experiments went it was sure to deliver quick results.  Rodney wasn’t sure he was ready for it, but then he caught a scent that was a mixture of the spiced Athosian soap that had become common on Atlantis, light sweat from a day’s activity, and sea breeze off the ocean.  It was a fragrance that was all John.  Instantly Rodney relaxed and leaned in to inhale more of the intoxicating aroma that always filled his head with the notions of comfort, safety, and home. 

And just like that John was kissing him.  Warm lips firm upon Rodney’s own, a roughly calloused hand resting on the side of his neck to hold his head in place, and a fine coating of stubble scratching his chin.  Heat seemed to radiate from every part of John’s body and wrapped Rodney in the solid reality of his presence.  

He felt John’s tongue flick out to trace along his bottom lip and an involuntary gasp escaped Rodney.  John took full advantage of the new opening and launched an assault on Rodney’s mouth that had him grasping desperately at John’s shirt to haul him as close as he could possibly get.  To say that Rodney had never been kissed like this was an understatement.  He hadn’t even known it was possible to be kissed as though kissing was as necessary to life as breathing.  It was a heady feeling, being at the receiving end of so much focused emotion.  The kiss was everything that John didn’t have the words to say and Rodney couldn’t get enough.           

All he could do was wrap his arms around John, hold him close, and give as good as he got.  Every swipe of the tongue, every bite, every gentle caress of his lips spoke of his need and desire, his hunger to have John in his life as a partner he could spar with, think with, and laugh with, someone he could both lean on and support.  

He gave the kiss everything he had and hoped John got the message. 

Eventually John broke away, but didn’t go far.  He rested his forehead against Rodney’s, one hand on his shoulder the other at his waist, and they both breathed heavily for a few moments, eyes closed.  When they leaned back, Rodney opened his eyes to see a John with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, bright eyes, and an expression that clearly said, “Well? What do you think?” 

Rodney couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.  Even if John’s little experiment hadn’t just proved to be monumentally successful (since kissing John was absolutely Rodney’s new favorite activity), he would have known that everything would be fine by the way he suddenly had no sense of weirdness about the Sheppard Situation.  Before, he had been just a bit unsure if being together as a couple was actually the right move for them given their day to day lives. Now he looked at John with his raised eyebrow and his crooked smirk, and he realized that they had already been doing this for years.  Hardly anything would change.  He would still get to have his best friend, but he could also have someone who kissed him like he was the most important thing in the universe. Just thinking about what that might imply for certain other activities made Rodney’s breath hitch.  

He had more than enough data for this decision. 

“I’m thinking that this is going to work out extremely well, the risks be damned,” Rodney declared in a rough voice. 

John chuckled a bit.  “Yeah, I’m getting that feeling too.” 

“Good.  That’s good.”

They just stared at each other for an endless moment, grinning like fools.

After a few seconds, however, the tinny sound of far off voices penetrated the happy haze in Rodney’s mind.  His brow wrinkled in confusion before he realized the sound was coming from the headset he had stuffed in his pocket when John had picked him up earlier. 

“Really?” John asked in mock annoyance. He had obviously figured out what the noise was too.  “You couldn’t leave work behind for even one hour?” 

“Sorry, but it’s dangerous to have us both out of contact and you know it,” Rodney pointed out as he stuffed the earpiece into place.  “Yes, I’m here. What do you want, Radek?” 

“The power to the shield generator just spiked again and it fried one of the relays,” came the heavily accented reply.  Zelenka was apparently really worried. His Czech accented English was unusually difficult to comprehend.  “I thought you said you knew how to fix the problem.  This is not fixing it!” 

Rodney couldn’t help but smile at John who was waiting patiently with a curious eyebrow raised.  “Sorry about that, Radek.  Unforeseen complication.  But I promise I’ve got it all figured out and no more circuits will be damaged.  Now, just give me a couple uninterrupted hours and everything will be fine.” 

“Are you sure, Rodney?  It’s okay to ask for help.  We’ve been over this!” 

“I definitely don’t need help!” he snapped.  “Now leave me alone and focus on your own work!  McKay out.” 

Rodney unceremoniously ripped the radio out of his ear and shoved it deep inside his pocket.

“That wasn’t very nice,” John commented unhelpfully from where he was leaning casually against the railing. 

Rodney glared at his serene expression.  “It’s your fault, you know,” he said shoving an accusatory finger into John’s chest.  “If you don’t get a hold on your emotions until we can figure out how to dial back the link between you and Atlantis, you’re going to blow the shield generator and who knows what else besides.”

“Oh,” John said and actually managed to look contrite.  “I’ll, um, work on that.”  They stared at each other for a few moments, trying to figure out what came next, when Sheppard spoke up.  “I guess that means no kissing for a while then.  We can add that to the list of risks involved.” 

“It’s still worth it, John,” Rodney said with all the sincerity he could muster.  “The shield thing is at least something I know I can fix.  But I still want this, if you do.” 

John studied Rodney for the space of a long breath and eventually gave a small smile.  “Good.”  He cleared his throat and gestured toward a basket stashed in the corner of the balcony that Rodney hadn’t noticed.  “Now that that’s decided, why don’t we eat?  I did promise you dinner after all and the view from this tower isn’t bad at sunset.” 

“No,” Rodney agreed as he watched John unload the contents of the basket. “The view from here isn’t bad at all.”  

In fact, he could see a bright future on the horizon that featured Rodney McKay and John Sheppard side by side in all the ways that mattered and probably a few more that were utterly ridiculous.  Whatever challenges came at them due to their new relationship, Rodney was certain they would be no match for the two of them.  There would be no more denying who they were, and Rodney wouldn’t settle for anything less.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: 1) The Mean Girls reference is maybe just a bit anachronistic, but only by a little. We could probably get away with saying that over the years with new people joining the expedition after they reestablished contact with earth, someone would have had a copy of the movie on Atlantis. (I can totally see Cadman having it.)
> 
> 2) DADT was repealed in December 2010 and effective September 2011. The series ended in 2009 so this story takes place in that limbo time before the American military came to its senses.
> 
> 3) I'm not entirely sorry that I appear to have decided that the way to McKay's heart is not in fact food, but math. This is probably a result of my having read Keith Devlin's excellent book "The Millennium Problems: The Seven Greatest Unsolved Mathematical Puzzles Of Our Time" while writing the beginning of this, and Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time" while writing the end. I highly recommend the former book if you're interested in what these problems are and why they are important to solve, and the latter cause it's just plain interesting.
> 
> I'm always game for comments, questions, concerns, or feedback! Thanks for reading!


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